


and i will give you every part of me.

by marquis



Series: Touch. [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Slow Dancing, Waltzing, i blame louisville, please do not think too poorly of me, this is the first time i have written narry in about a year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marquis/pseuds/marquis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall gets Harry to slow dance with him on two occasions: Once when they're on stage, and once when they're not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i will give you every part of me.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Take Me Dancing" by The Maine.  
>  _Give me thunder,  
>  Give me lightning,  
> And I will give you every part of me.  
> Take me dancing,  
> Get me fucked up,  
> Play that old guitar and we will sing._

Louis ducks under Niall’s arm, spinning out like he was born to do it. The effect might have been a bit more spectacular if Niall weren’t laughing so hard, if his face wasn’t pink and he didn’t sound breathless when he spoke, a little song of _one two three, one two three_ that he didn’t even seem to follow himself.

He pulls Louis close and they execute what could’ve been a perfect dip, Louis bent backwards with his leg stretched into the air and Niall holding him steady. Liam and Zayn start to applaud, though, and Niall takes the opportunity for what it is: a moment in the spotlight. He drops Louis onto the ground. Even Harry has to laugh, a bright squawk that he tries to muffle in his palm.

It doesn’t matter if anyone heard it, of course, because now Louis is wrapping his arms around Niall’s legs and pulling him down to the ground, intent on getting his revenge. They wrestle and roll around to Liam and Zayn’s encouragements until they’re both panting, Louis’ hands and knees pinning Niall down.

“That’s what you get, Nialler,” he says, licking a long stripe up Niall’s neck before rolling off and dashing to hide behind Liam on the couch.

Harry doesn’t like looking at Niall spread out on the ground, flushed and out of breath. He decides that it’s a lot safer to leap off the couch and grab onto Niall’s vest. “Let’s go swimming!” he demands, trying hard not to wonder what Louis tasted when he licked, what it would be like to nip at Niall’s collarbones.

\--

Niall has an endless amount of energy. Harry has always known that, but tonight it seems that he’s going to be reacquainted with the fact. They’re alone in a hotel room – he doesn’t even know whose it is anymore, his or Niall’s – and he’d really like to curl up and go to sleep, but Niall doesn’t look even a little bit tired. He’s jumping around on the foot of the bed, trying to make it over Harry’s feet ninety-seven times in order to beat what he claims to be his old record. The highest he’s made it without breaking so far is seventeen, so Harry is having difficulty trusting what he says.

There’s a moment where Niall stills and Harry thinks, stupidly, _that’s it! we’re done_ before Niall is sliding off the duvet.

“Let’s dance, Harry!” he whispers, like it’s some kind of secret they’re sharing.

Except Harry can’t do that. There are rules about it, really; they aren’t written down, but they’re in his head, on the little chalkboard that tells him not to do drugs and also look both ways before crossing the street. It would be okay if it were just messing about, he supposes. If it were Louis, if it were Gemma or his mum. The fact of the matter is, though, that this is Niall and he knows that he shouldn’t. The rule is that if he is going to get that close to someone, there are to be no complicated emotions involved.

When complicated emotions are involved, they start… well, they start _complicating_ things.

Only Niall is pulling him up off of the bed without his permission and pressing a hand to his spine, so he thinks it’s maybe a little complicated without all of that.

“Shouldn’t I be the one holding your back? Your hand should be on my shoulder, I think,” Harry says, trying to blink the sleep and the confusion and the nervousness away before Niall can see. “It’s just – I’m taller. By quite a bit.”

Niall laughs. “That’s exactly what you said in the pool today. You just didn’t want to fall off and hurt yourself.”

“That doesn’t even – how is that relevant?”

They’re moving. Harry hadn’t noticed, but now he can feel Niall spinning them around while their feet dance around each other in sets of three, little baby steps to get them started. “You always pretend that you’re so laid back, but I know better. You’re finicky, Harry Styles. You’re finicky and you’re fussy, and I _know_ it.”

“Should I be offended?” Harry asks, leaning on Niall and letting him do all of the work. He’s the one that wanted to dance in the first place; he’s free to suffer all he likes. “It’s just easier to let me have my way, Nialler, really. Everyone else figured that out a long time ago.”

“I think you just do it because you know it will work,” Niall mutters, voice sounding just a little bit strained. “You know that people will give you what you want, and you take advantage of that.”

“You don’t give me everything I want,” Harry whines. It sounds a little bit more pathetic than he was originally going for. He blames the complicated feelings.

Niall’s laugh is nice ordinarily, but it’s _really_ nice when Harry can feel it rumble in his chest. “Haz, you don’t give _me_ everything I want. It’s a two-way street.”

“This would be a lot simpler if we just wanted the same thing,” Harry comments. Niall hums in agreement and pushes him away. He lifts up their arms and Harry ducks under obediently, turning around and collapsing onto Niall’s shoulder once more. Niall stumbles a little bit before finding their sleepy, nearly nonexistent rhythm.

They don’t say much for a little while after that. Harry hopes that it means Niall’s getting tired, too, that he’ll go off to his own hotel room – assuming this one isn’t his, anyway – and leave Harry to sleep. (If this _is_ Niall’s hotel room, he’s still probably going to have to go find another one, because there is no way Harry has enough energy to leave and find his own.)

“So what _do_ you want, Harry?” Niall finally asks, and _oh_. There’s something else there now, something that wasn’t there before. It sounds nervous, like Niall is waiting to hear something he doesn’t want to. Or maybe it isn’t like that at all and Niall is imagining things; it’s hard to tell.

Harry reminds himself to wipe off his mental chalkboard; slow dancing with Niall is nice, and he isn’t having any weird feelings in his tummy like he thought he might. He nudges at Niall’s neck with his nose. “This is fine.”

He thinks that’s the end of it. Of course, it isn’t. “No, Haz,” Niall says, and Harry is positive he hears something there this time, “really. What do you _want_?”

Harry isn’t like Liam, where he thinks over every little consequence before he talks. He isn’t like Louis, with ten miles of brick and cement around his entire life and being. He’s not like Zayn, doesn’t feel the need to brood over everything and let it simmer. He isn’t even like Niall, really, although he doesn’t know why. He’s just Harry, and sometimes he blurts out stupid things that he regrets later. Sometimes, he says something too fast, even if it leaves his mouth a little slowly.

This is one of those times.

“Would it be horrible of me to say that I wanted you?” he asks.

Niall laughs again, and the nerves are gone. He sounds light and sweet and just like he always does when he really, truly smiles. “No, no. That wouldn’t be horrible at all.”

\--

The next night, Niall pulls him in close for a waltz on stage. The fans love it, screaming and cheering, and Niall twirls Harry like a top. When they fall over, they maybe take a little too long to get up, lost in the feel of it, the excitement and the recklessness. Harry has _never_ wanted to kiss Niall more. They pull away, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t collect later.


End file.
